


This is a Fight to Change the World

by jankmaster98



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening, Sengoku Basara
Genre: Amnesia, Crazy Party!!, Crossover, Duty, F/M, Family, Gen, Honor, Mentor/Protégé, Oaths & Vows, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Power Variance, Samurai, Sengoku Jidai
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 00:09:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4645116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jankmaster98/pseuds/jankmaster98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Halidom of Yilsse faces danger from every side, from the West Plegians and bandits raid, from the North the Khans remain remote and distant, from the South and beyond monsters ravage the land, and off the East Coast strange ships bearing the paulownia flower are seen prowling the waters. In the midst of all this, a traveler is found on the wayside with two swords and no past. </p><p>Watch his journey unfold as this stranger finds a new purpose, new friends, and maybe even a new family. All this while malevolent forces from across the eastern sea look hungrily at new lands to conquer, and ancient magics and old enemies rise once more.</p><p>A retelling of Fire Emblem Awakening with a crossover twist adding new characters, new plots, and a whole lot of crazy to the world of Chrom and his Shepherds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Devil King

**Author's Note:**

> This story was first published on ff.net and is now here for anyone interested. Tags for the crossover will be added as they come as will the tags for canon characters.

This fight was going to be crucial, it was going to decide everything. All the battles, all the time, all the struggles and hardships that had built him up to this point was going into this effort now. A loud crash echoed throughout the chamber as he saw his friend match the tyrant they were fighting blow for blow, but it was not enough. Power and ferocity radiated from this man, this king of destruction and horror. Yet how much of him was still man? How much was not simple beastial hunger and rage? How else could anyone put into action such wretched plans, and commit atrocities by the thousands such as this man did? It didn’t matter now, it wasn’t the time for introspection or reflection, it was the time to fight!

With a cry a bolt of lightning was launched at the madman while his blade was locked with another. The blast found its mark, but the foe of all good and honest people in the land only laughed as the Thoron spell almost bounced off his armor. With a smile that could chill bone, the monster threw off the blade of his opponent and sent him tumbling to the ground. The demon who’d brought them to this point attacked the only other person currently standing in the room. Fire and death roared out from his left hand, and the magical defenses that stood against the blows could only shudder against this assault. The owner of said protection spells was then soon blasted across the room and found the wall crashing into his back. Without a big change in circumstances, the two heroes who stood against this warmonger and his plans would be nothing more than dust before his might. 

“Insolent fools!” The tyrant said as he approached where the Heir of Heroes lay on the ground. “Have you learned nothing?”

With an armored foot he kicked the blue haired leader of men across the room and laughed maniacally as he brought his weapons ready to deal the killing blow. 

“There are be none before me! There shall be none after me!” He stood before his fallen foe, ready to end hope for all, “Die now for defying the House of a Hundred Demons, for I am the Devil King of the Sixth Heaven! O-”

“You talk too much!” 

The black hearted individual turned his head around just in time to see a powerful Thoron spell crash into him. Unlike the last time though, this bolt struck with hard fury knocked back the Devil King. Rather than act surprised or angered however, the one hailed as the Devil King could only smile in satisfaction as a lone man walked towards doom and destiny. Eyes of a weathered but kindhearted sort gazed into eyes full of malice and darkness. While there was dark power in one set, there was hope and courage in the other, but in both plainly seen both was one thing. Determination and a will of iron that would see both to whatever end they had chosen. This was clear to both, and both knew that this would be their last and final encounter one way or another. 

“I suppose I might have been wrong about you! Perhaps there yet exists one in this world who is worthy of my name! It matters not, you cannot stop what is destiny, what is fate!”

“No! I will stop you, stop you here and now forever!”

The clash of power began with lightning and fire struggling against each other, a fight more of willpower than of raw strength. The words of power read off the ancient and powerful tome sparked energy and might of another age long gone, while the power that stood against it was a miracle of metallurgy and sorcery both, a combination of the best of modern science and the worst of ancient magics. Sparks and flames spewed forth from the center of their duel, and another close by would have surely felt the massive surge of power radiating throughout the room.

It was with a whisper and not a yell the battle was decided, with the small utterance of the final word of power the strength of the Thoron spell became that of a storm, vengeful and righteous in fury. Even as the Devil King tried to fire his way through the magical might arrayed against him his power failed. He was engulfed in storm and electricity and cried out in pain once his body was enveloped in the tempest. It was at this point the Scion of Legends saw his chance. With the blade of heroes he ran the monster through with all the might left in his bones. Even the power of the House of a Hundred Demons could not stand against such force, with a earth shattering roar the Devil King fell to his knees and began to fade from this world. 

With the battle seemingly over with, the two heroes of the hour stood exhausted but jubilant in their own way. What only one of them saw was that the Demon King was not quite done with his fight.

“YOU INSOLENT WRETCHES!” He cried as he let off one last blast towards the two heroes.

With a great shove the tactician of the Shepherds of Ylisse pushed his commanding officer out of the way of the final dying strike of their enemy. The attack narrowly missed them both, but the force of the explosion knocked them to the ground. The smoke cleared from the tactician's eyes and one of the first things in his field of vision was his friend’s hand. Grasping it quickly, the master of magic, blades, and tactics got up to his feet and smiled a with a sigh of relief. 

“I Think, it’s over now.” The Exalt of Ylisse surmised as red devilish energy dissipated from the now empty armor. “We only carried the day thanks to your work.”

Even as Chrom said those words the vision and mind of the man hailed as the High Deliverer of the land became clouded and dark. A sharp and menacing laugh was heard in his head, and it wasn’t long before a voice became to worm its way into a brain normally full of strategies and battle plans. 

‘How little you understand of destiny and power, young child.’

It said as control began to vanish, even as he could still feel his hands and feet.

‘How arrogant you were to think you could stand against my might. Watch now as all your work is undone!’

The tactician heard a grunt of pain and saw a flash of light. He wanted to scream, but no words came out of his mouth. The sight he was treated to was his closest friend skewered by a bolt of lightning, and even before his eyes turned down to his hands he knew who fired that mortal wounding blow. He wanted to cry, scream, anything, do something rather than be a prisoner in his own body. Yet there was nothing, the tactician’s eyes could only turn towards Chrom’s face, still full of kindness and trust despite losing life as every moment passed.

“Please... It’s not your fault. Leave this place and live... Your hear me? That’s an order! Live, live..”

That last thing heard before his conscious mind ended was damnable laughter of a man who’d caused the land to be torn asunder, and then the world melted into blackness.


	2. Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An adventure takes form, and a warrior's journey truly begins.

He couldn’t see shit right now, but maybe that had something to do with the fact that his face was pressed in what he assumed was dirt. That wasn’t so bad though, not compared to how much his head hurt. That might make him inclined to just stay face first in the dirt for a bit longer. That musing was interrupted by footsteps, from the sound that one or two of them made they were heavily armored, Naga willing they weren't bandits. The last thing he needed was a possible beating and the removal of what little possessions he could feel on his body. What was he doing here on the ground anyway? His mind wracked itself for answers, but nothing seemed to come. Hell, even memories of who he was seemed lost to him. That might’ve been a combination of exhaustion and perhaps the circumstances that led him to be sniffing up dirt, but the fact that even his own name escaped him for now worried him immensely. 

“Come on! Look at him, he’s still breathing! We can’t just leave a person like this.” Someone said, the voice of a girl it sounded like.

Voices? But from whom? They didn’t sound like bandits but his body refused to help him do the polite thing and stand up and greet them. 

“We have no idea why a person would just be left out here in the open like this,” A much more stern and authoritative sounding person spoke now, his voice carrying the weary and grilled tones of soldier. 

“I’ll not just leave someone splayed out on the ground like this Frederick, not if I can help it.” A third person intoned, earning a sigh from at least one other member of the unseen party.

It would look comical to any onlooker, four individuals on an open field, as a blue haired and well armored individual rolled a decidedly oddly dressed young man on his back. Now it was the time for the person on the ground to open his eyes. While the first thing he saw was nothing but blinding light on account of his eyes adjusting to natural sunlight, the next thing he focused on were the faces of three decidedly different people. One face was young and full of curiosity, with large and inquisitive eyes that darted everywhere at once. The second one was clearly the oldest of the three, what with several lines of worry and clear experience etched on his visage. His gaze was like iron as he seemed to probe for any sign of treachery or deceit, if one could hazard a guess the hardened warrior had faced some great betrayal in the past.

Then there was the third face who entered the formally earthbound man’s field of vision was markedly different from the others. Putting aside the fact that his hair was blue of all colors, he seemed to be possessed of a natural air of authority and presence like those warriors one reads about in children's stories and dusty history tomes. It was strange to think that such persons could really exist, and even stranger still to think that one could be met on some field in the middle of nowhere.

“Well, now that you’re up,” The blue haired warrior said as he held out his hand, “Sleeping face first on the ground isn’t what I’d call healthy. You should get on your feet.”

Taking the stranger’s hand tentatively, the amnestic wanderer pulled himself up to his feet to get a better look at his surroundings and who he was surrounded by. The field was as unimaginative and nondescript as you could possibly find. With naught but grass in most directions, dotted by the occasional tree breaking the monotony. In the far distance one could see a small town with a large chapel visible even from here, and a short distance from where they were standing was a small dirt road barely large enough for even the smallest of wagons. Further towards the city, small farms and homesteads dotted the landscape, but nothing so as to suggest any large scale settlement of this area.

“That far off look in your eyes suggests you’re lost traveler, you mind giving us your name?” The apparent leader of this band asked.

“My name is-” His mind wracked itself for an answer, but nothing seemed to come. “I’m sorry, I can’t remember right now.”

“Oh I know what this is!” The chipper girl spoke up now, “I remember my tutors teaching me about this! I think it’s called amnesia.” 

“What it’s called is grade-a bullshit.” The grim and armored figure retorted, “You cannot expect us to believe in these troubled times that a person lying on the side of the road with “no memory” is not a sign of treachery.” 

It appeared the soldier was about to draw upon his blade, but found himself told to stand down with a gesture from his apparent leader.

“Peace Frederick! If he meant us any harm he would’ve made a move by now. And not once during this conversation has his hand gone to his blades.”

He had a sword? With a surprised look on his face, the Man with No Name looked to his left side to see that there was indeed a sword there. In fact, not just one sword, but two of similar designs. One was longer than the other and was presumably a two handed blade, the shorter sword was not quite the length of a broadsword but had enough length to not be considered a dagger. The distinctive feature of those two blades together though was their curved design, red silk inlays on the sword handles, and an odd crest of a black flower inside of a yellow flower printed on the blade. 

“Maybe we should start with our names, if yours escapes you. My name is Chrom, the little bundle of energy is my sister Lissa, and the cute and cuddly teddy bear over there is Sir Frederick of Riverfell.” 

“Hear that Frederick, you’re me and Chrom’s stuffed animal now!” Lissa giggled while Frederick could only sigh in exasperation. 

“Oh the things I put up with for the sake of my oaths...”

Witnessing that little banter brought a smile to the traveler’s face, though his continuing lack of information to give was a concern.

“Well, thank you for your aid, I’m sorry I can’t offer you anything in return-”

“Nonsense, as Shepherds it’s our duty to look after every soul in these parts, native or otherwise.” Chrom reaffirmed with a smile.

“Shepherds?” The Man with No Name asked with confusion, “You heard sheep while armed with lances and swords?” 

“It’s a dangerous world my friend, and the flock we tend two is no small charge indeed. Now if your memory is gone you can’t very well be left out here in the open like this. Let us guide you into town and perhaps we can sort out this mess from there.” 

“I would advise against such actions milord. We still have no idea if this man really is tell us the truth about his memory or anything else for that matter. This talk of “amnesia” could very well be a ploy to get us to lower our guard.”

There was a point there, they really didn’t have any way of assuring themselves of his truthfulness other than the strength of his word; and the word of a stranger wasn’t something most people took at face value. 

“Oh come on Federick, what if he really doesn’t have his memories and is all alone out here?” Lissa begged the question, “He’d been picked apart by bandits, or wolves, or bandits riding wolves!”

“Be that as it may, I cannot help but be suspicious of someone with origins unknown to us and apparently himself. Though the decision remains milord’s I will emphasize caution all the same.”

Chrom looked to be in deep thought as he contemplated his decision. After staring at the ground for a few seconds his eyes locked with the travelers. With a careful gaze Chrom seemed to be analyzing this man who appeared from nowhere and who seemed to be going nowhere as well. After a few moments of deliberation a smile broke across the swordsman’s face and he began to speak his assessment.

“Strange as it may sound, I’m inclined to believe your story, but at the same time I know that I can’t be too trusting to everyone I meet. How about this, we’ll lead you back to a town, but just to make sure Frederick has at least some reassurance he can walk behind you while we take you into town.”

Seeing as how he didn’t have a lot of options at the moment, and the fact that Frederick didn’t seem to be getting any friendlier. There wasn’t really any other choice than to accept the offer. With a small nod that was understood sufficiently, Chrom took the lead of the party as the group of four made their way along the dirt road towards the village. Along the way they passed through and around several small farms with the occasion loose livestock animal crossing their path. Every farmer who crossed their path seemed to look upon the group with a mixture of friendliness and reverence. Apparently this group was known well-enough in this area, and while Lissa soaked up all the attention it appeared the two other members of the group were not so conformable every time they passed a farmer who gave them a hurrah.

They reached the village by about high noon, if tolling of the bells of the chapel was any indication. The four found their way to a tavern on the western end of the village, they arrived at the sign of the Prancing Pony and made their way to a table to hopefully get things straightened out.

“So, for the record, you can’t remember anything about where you’re from, where you were going, and why you were even in Ylisse?” Frederick asked in between sips of his drink. 

“I’m sorry but no, and I’ve been trying to remember the whole time we were walking but nothing’s come back to me.” 

“Your clothes and weapons aren’t those of a citizen of a Halidom, and I can scarcely imagine the nation where such intricate designs on your clothes don’t mark you as one of the nobility. 

“Ooooh, the mystery.” Lissa intoned with seemingly practiced melodrama, “Where could the mysterious stranger come from? Why is he here? And why hasn’t our bread come yet?”

Before that question could be answered a great many screams went up into the air. Immediately panic set into the other patrons of the Prancing Pony and Frederick and Chrom readied their weapons for battle. The Wanderer also reached for one of his two swords, finding the taller of the blades almost perfectly balanced for his grip when grasped with both his hands. Out of the corner of his eye, the Wanderer also spotting Lissa preparing for battle, but instead of reaching for a sword or lance, the young girl reached for a staff. Some part of his brain told him that that was a staff meant to heal rather than harm. Strange how he seemed to know the workings of weapons but not his own name.

There was little enough time for contemplation as it was clear what was going on throughout the village. As the four hurried themselves of the tavern, chaos reigned, as men who could only be described as brigands looted shops and homes. In the streets there was fire, glass, and blood as men wielding swords and axes fell upon the helpless townsfolk. Out of the corner of his eye, the Wanderer could also see some villagers holding spears, the town’s militia he guessed, trying to fight back. But they were disorganized and scattered, and their long spears were proving ineffective in this closer quarters combat, especially due to their lack or formation or any discernible tactics.

Sparing no thought to his own safety, Chrom rushed ahead to engage two bandit axemen currently trying to break down a door to a shop. Even from the outside streets and the chaos of battle, the screams of the occupants inside could be plainly heard. With unbridled speed and power Chrom slashed through the side of one of the bandits. Before the other could truly counter attack, he was impaled on the lance of Frederick who yanked the weapon out quickly and dutifully in preparation for the next encounter.

The Wanderer also found himself beset by bandits, these two swordsmen of the myrmidon tradition if their stances were to believed. Again, the Wanderer wondered how exactly he seemed to know things like sword styles yet his his own name escaped him. One bandit made move to strike him, but the Wanderer blocked that blade with his own. With a heave he moved his sword up the bandit’s blade, and once his own sword was free from the lock, brought it down through the flesh of the unfortunate outlaw. While impressive, this maneuver left the Wanderer vulnerable, and the second of his two opponents managed to slice his sword across the Wanderer’s back. It was a glancing blow but it cut through the robes he was wearing and he could certainly feel the blood trickling down his back. Despite this, his strength did not fail him and he was able to bring his blade around for another strike. This time it was the bandit’s turn to block, but as the criminal tried to bring his sword to bear it was cut through by the Wanderer’s blade. The brigand barely had any time to gape in shock at this turn of events before he was cut nearly in two by the curved blade, falling dead on the ground like his compatriot.

Exhausted by this sudden turn of events, the Man With no Name fell to the floor unceremoniously on his ass. Seeing his predicament, Lissa decided to rush over towards him and prepared her staff for healing. As the blue orb atop the staff glowed and healing magics began to manifest, the young man breathed a sigh of relief as the pain going through his body began to stop.

“Thank you Lissa. Argh, that still smarts a little through.”

“Hey, you’re welcome. What kinda healer would I be if you kept fighting with a wound like that?”

As the healing magics rushed through his system it seemed part of their power reached his mind as something akin to a door opening happened. In his mind he could see a man dark haired like himself and dressed in robes bearing the same emblem as his swords. 

You have much potential in you boy, both in the sword and the sorcerer's art, but of all your talents treasure your mind. Treasure your mind, Nobutada. 

Nobutada, so that was his name. He’d hoped perhaps that maybe now he’d discovered a way to get back his memories, but even as the healing magic continued to work its way across his body nothing more seemed to come back to him. 

“There, that should do it!” Lissa said as she patted him on the back for good measure “You should be all better-”

“Nobutada,” He reaffirmed, “I know my name now, my name is Nobutada.”

Even against the backdrop of this chaos and calamity Lissa apparently still took the time to look amused.

“Nobu- what now? Is that foreign or something?” 

“I don’t know only-” Before he could finish his sentence a hostile man holding a bronze tipped spear emerged from an alleyway attempting to skewer Nobutada. Instead of finding its way into Nobutada’s side like intended the spear ripped through the fabric of the satchel he was carrying. Out from the satchel spilled out several books that he wasn’t even aware he was carrying until now. The excitement and mystery of the past few hours apparently causing him to fail quite a few spot checks this day. While he once again unsheathed his sword to fight his opponent. Though this time it was more about parrying the spear point than stopping the momentum of a sword swing. What he and the bandit failed to notice was Lissa running to retrieve the books from where they lay on the ground. She quickly picked the tomes off the ground and opened one a random page. What happened next surprised both Nobutada and the enemy spearman, but what happened ended up working to Nobutada’s advantage.

“Nîn o Chithaeglir!”

Lissa spoke the ancient words of power with a bit of a tremble in her voice and from seemingly nowhere a small bolt of lightning struck the brigand. While barely enough to harm him it was enough to distract him as he lowered his guard for one moment, and one moment was all Nobutada needed. With one quick and powerful motion, the head of the enemy was detached from his body and rolled to the ground like a cut melon. The heat of the moment over, Nobutada stopped and considered Lissa who was currently looking a bit shaken at everything that had happened. Such things people shouldn't have to see at her age, and for a moment the warrior wondered why he himself was not troubled by his taking of a life, and in such a brutal fashion.

“Are you alright?” He asked of Lissa who was still clutching his tomes and starring a bit numbly at the body and the spilled blood on the street.

“I’m fine,” She said, meeting his eyes as she did so. “It's just, I’m usually not this close when fighting breaks out like this, most of the time I stay back while Chrom and the others do the fighting.”

“Well that’s their choice then, but to me a healer should never be too far from the battle, and it appears you know something of magic as well.” Nobutada offered with a smile

“Oh I don’t know heads or tails of magic,” Lissa protested, some of her previous mirth returning to her voice and eyes, “I just know a tome of power when I see one, and the basics of a spell I suppose. I could never actually try using it for combat, you should probably hold onto them.” 

Nobutada took the books from Lissa as she handed them to him. To his surprise as he flipped through them knowledge of spells and power came back to him. It appeared that in addition to swordsmanship, sorcery was in his armory as well. Glancing over the tomes also brought unclear images of a training yard and a man with snow white hair into his mind, but time enough for that would be latter. Off ahead of Nobutada and Lissa was Chrom and Frederick battling yet more bandits, the two fought together like well oiled machines, but it was clear that the overwhelming numbers of their opponents would overtake their skill at arms.

“Milord! We must make haste away from here! I cannot guarantee your safety with so few forces at our command.” The wary knight said as another group of bandits turned around the corner and spotted both the group, and the multitude of dead bandits on the ground.

“I will not leave my people to the mercy of these bandits!” Chrom retorted while screams from other areas of the town filled the air. 

“We need to regroup with the town’s militia and drive out the bandits street-by-street!” The Nobutada yelled above the chaos as he and Lissa rushed to join them, “Any bandit group big enough to consider attacking a settlement and not just a homestead needs the efforts of the entire town to drive out.” 

Chrom seemed reluctant to leave the area, but seeing as another group was going to be headed in their direction he and Frederick joined Lissa and Nobutada in heading in the opposite direction. A quick question to Frederick revealed that most likely it would be the chapel where the town’s militia would make their stand, a short distance sprinting revealed that to be the truth, as a handful of militia spearmen tried their best to hold off against the axes and swords of their attackers. Behind the screen of militia men lay huddled masses of the women, children, and elderly, who fearfully looked on as their fate was being decided.

With a rush and a cry three fighters joined the fray, Chrom with his sword, Frederick with his lance, and now Nobutada turned to the tomes of magic he’d only recently rediscovered. As lightning blasted through the ranks of the looters, more mundane weapons of steel and bronze cut down those remaining. In short order the immediate area around the chapel had been cleared of bandits, though Naga only knew how long it would stay that way. With the coast now clear Lissa also made it her mission to tend to the wounded soldiers, patching up as many as she could while doing her best to make sure some passed as painlessly as possible.

“Who’s the commander of the garrison?” Chrom asked of the soldiers assembled as the situation began to become tangible in the minds of those assembled.

“Captain Robb sir.” One man nervously spoke up, trembling as he did so, “He was one of the first cut down sirs... I don’t know what to do! We’re all going to die!!!!”

“No!” Chrom shouted as men gathered to see this commotion. “We’re not all going to die here, and we’re not going to watch your town fall. I’ll not see the lives of Halidom Citizens laid to waste like this!”

Nobutada could only watch as the natural authority he’d seen in Chrom before take ahold of these men. These farmers, blacksmiths, merchants, could have barely know Chrom before now. Now as he spoke of victory and hope they looked ready to follow him into the jaws of hell itself. But belief wasn’t going to be the only thing 

“Chrom, you can lead these men, I’m sure of it, but we need a plan to drive them out, I think I just might have one.”

The blue haired captain's eyebrows furrowed in interest as he put his hand to his chin.

“And what would that plan be?”

Nobutada looked to the distance to see the only other building as tall as the chapel. 

“The place they would take over is the town hall, we need to push for that, and from there the bandits will scatter to the four winds. To get there we’ll have to push through large groups of bandits, and I see one way to do that with the least losses and the most chances of success.”

“And what would that be?” Frederick said as he interrupted on their little conversation.

“As I was going to explain to Chrom.” Nobutada intoned no small amount of annoyance into his voice, “We need to ensure that we evenly dively the militia at our disposal into equal groups and have them advance in spear wall formation towards the town hall.” 

“Their spears and shields will help them keep the briands at a distance and combined with a closer interlocking shield formation their causalities will be minimized.” Frederick surmised.

“Exactly, as the militia push the enemy towards the town hall eventually the enemy be surrounded by the points of spears from all directions. However, there remains one problem. I calculate we only have enough militiamen at our disposal to cover three of the four routes to the hall from here, and if we leave one open we run the risk that another force could flank another route and send the column into chaos.”

“Then the four of us will take the last path to the town hall.” Chrom decided as he marched off, presumably to give another speech to the townsfolk who looked ready to fight for their homes. Chrom relayed Nobutada’s idea to the troops, and soon enough, captains were chosen, spears lowered, and men packed in tight formations ready to advance. 

Before they enacted the battle plan Chrom stood before the assembled men and viewed them over before speaking.

“There isn’t much time for speeches, so I’ll make this quick. Those are your homes those bastards are burning, those are your families they want to kill. We’re not going to stand for any of it! We’ll cut them down, and send them to hell!”

A great cheer rose up from the lines of the spearmen, and Nobutada was convinced in that moment that these men would follow Chrom through fire and blood if he called them to it.

The battle that followed actually went rather well all things considered. While the militia units advanced up the streets of the town, mopping up any bandits they came across, the group of Chrom, Frederick, Lissa, and Nobutada was doing well for themselves. On Nobutada’s advice they to had arranged themselves in a loose but set formation, Chrom and Nobutada would take the lead with their swords, Frederick would clean out the flanks and anyone trying to surprise them from the rear, while Lissa would heal any of the wounds that would inevitably come to people fighting in a chaotic situation like this one. 

They eventually made their way to the town hall. As they made their way to the large building Nobutada could see brigands retreating up from the other streets. Behind them were the glittering spear points of the militia. Prepared to end this threat to their homes and families. The remaining brands on the other hand, looked scared to death, while the largest among them, their probable leader looked on in frustration and anger as she saw his men routed, and the militia standing strong and confident against them instead of fleeing en masse. This was not the type of force that the white haired bastard had told him to expect. The massive brute was expecting an quick and easy slaughter with such as large group at his disposal, but it appeared that these men weren't quite dedicated to the job and when really faced with hard resistance they broke like cowards.

It came to pass now that the entirety of the bandit force was enclosed with nowhere to go. Nobutada almost allowed himself a smirk at the situation that the bandits found themselves in. He would be smirking, if not for the fact that the half-dozen or so of the remaining enemies still looked determined to fight. At their head was the the man who led them presumably, what with his stature and visage being any indication. Showing no fear in his face, Frederick stepped before the last holdout of the bandits with his lance at the ready. 

“You are surrounded and outnumbered. Surrender or face justice here and now!” He challenged. 

Nobutada, Lissa, and Chrom saw this display and Chrom was visibly upset. Nobutada could see that the young man didn’t want to see the knight risk his life, but at the same time he saw Frederick’s intent as well. The knight probably knew that if he didn’t make the challenge himself Chrom probably would, and perhaps if he could defeat the leader of these bandits the rest would disperse without further losses towards the townsfolk. 

At this challenge the leader of the bandits snarled like a mad beast and advanced out in front of his men. It was clear what was going to happen, the bandits and militia alike gave the two men space. Like spectators at a carnival event they crowded the sides, though the townsfolk far outnumbered the criminals at this point. 

The bandit leader unsheathed his weapon to reveal a large and heavy greatsword as tall as a man and as wide as two fists. While the blade was designed to be wielded with two hands, the man standing before them was able to grasp the blade in one hand and make the greatsword a broadsword in his hands. Despite this showing Frederick coolly stared down his opposition, silver tipped lance prepared to strike. Though from the length of the weapon and the size Nobutada wasn’t quite sure whether to classify it as a lance or a spear. Regardless of semantics the duel was about to start, and the entire mass of the people assembled held their collective breath. 

The duel started with a cry as the bandit chief started to run towards his opponent, he never stood a chance. His sword was fearsome, his countenance terrible, and his strength immense, but everyone must obey the basic laws of range and motion. Perhaps the bandit chief was used to men breaking and running at the sight of him charging, perhaps he had simply grown overconfident in his abilities, or perhaps he was just a dumbass. In either case what happened was this; the nameless leader of the marauding brigands was impaled by the lance of Sir Frederick of Riverfell died right there on the spot. Anticlimactic perhaps, but from the look on Sir Frederick’s face he would have it no other way. With the job done, the rest of the bandits threw down their arms, disheartened by their leader’s death. Frederick saw this turn of events as stoically as ever, and now turned back to Chrom and the others shouldering his lance as he did so. 

However, it appeared that two of the bandits under the now deceased men’s did not hold well with this outcome. They rushed Sir Frederick, one with an axe, and another with a sword. Frederick turned about as quickly as ever, bringing his weapon down on the axeman and dispatching him on the stop. However, his weapon could only be at one place at any given time. The second of the attackers was in striking distance, and Frederick did not have time to counter. Almost without thought, almost in instinct, Nobutada leaped into action. With almost a blur of speed Nobutada’s body moved between the sword and Frederick, while his own blade almost leaped out of its scabbard. He could feel the blade cutting through his skin across his shoulder and chest, but even so the flower-crested sword found its mark, and a much deeper cut was left upon the brigand.

With a great gasp three bodies fell to the ground. Two bandits, and one wanderer. Immediately Lissa and Chrom rushed to Nobutada’s side as Frederick turned him over onto his back. From what the others could see his wound was little more than a glancing blow, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t warrant medical attention. 

“On your back for the second time in a day good sir,” Frederick joked as he witnessed the militia begin to round up the surrendering bandits, “You need not have acted on my behalf, but I thank you all the same-”

“Nobutada, I have my name again, and it is Nobutada.” 

“Well that’s definitely foreign.” Chrom noted as he surveyed the situation at hand. The defeat of this force of bandits, the destruction they had wrought, and the fact that the victory of the Shepherds was due in no small part to the planning of the man currently lying on the ground.

Chrom gave out his hand once again to be grasped by Nobutada who pulled himself up to the cheers of the townsfolk. Almost as soon as the planner was on his feet he and his group were very nearly mobbed by the joyous townspeople. 

“We carried the day thanks to you my friend.” Chrom shouted over the roaring huzzahs of the people.

“I confess I did but little, sir.” 

“Nonsense, you gave these men a plan to follow, which is something more valuable than numbers in a battle.” It was then the blue haired fighter seemed struck with a plan of his own, “You have only a few memories and less of future ahead of you if I am correct?”

“Well, I don’t really have any plans-”

“Excellent, the Shepherds are always in need of a sharp blade and a sharper mind. What do you say to becoming our tactician?”

 

This earned a smile from Lissa, a bemused look from Frederick, and a look of bewilderment on Nobutada’s own face. 

Well that was forward and abrupt.

“Umm- I’m not sure really. I don’t exactly have anywhere else to go, but are you sure you want to just add me into your group just like that?” 

“Hey, you really were a big help out there today! It’s cause of you these people still have their homes and families, it just wouldn’t do for you to be left on your own without even your memories to guide you!” Lissa said in response.

“While I am loath give my trust away freely, you have proven your valor to milord at the very least. I also cannot forget I owe you personally myself, and as milady says, leaving you to the chances and powers of world would not be an acceptable outcome. I would have you as a comrade if you would so choose.” Frederick added. 

“So, Nobutada from parts unknown, think you might have a future with the Shepherds of the Halidom?” Chrom asked as he extended his arm once again, this time not to be pulling up, but to be shaken in affirmation. 

In the end what other choice did he have? Perhaps he could be like the wandering heroes who simply traveled without cause or purpose, simply drifting from one village to the next in search of answers he would probably never find. Or he could take this path, a path that spoke of danger perhaps, but also of people at his side, of people who would have his back. With no memories, no known friends or family, and no known goals or ambitions what recourse was truly logical? Without words this time, Nobutada took Chrom’s hand in a firm handshake. No words needed to be spoken, the intent was in the action. Lissa cheered, Frederick gave a small smile, and Nobutada felt perhaps the coming days would be better than the one he woke to.

**Author's Note:**

> I commend anyone for knowing who the villain is this chapter was and where he was from. I'll just tell you flat out he's not Validar. Hope I've got you hooked and I'll post the other chapters as soon as time allows. Thank you and please leave a comment if you can!


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